Autodidact

Wednesday, 2 December 2009

Today was long and fruit­ful. I learned much, but the main thing is some­thing I fig­ured out just now as I fired up the browser to write this post. This last year has been a sub­con­scious seek­ing of new path­ways and chal­lenges. I start­ed two new blogs, joined the W3C, joined GovLoop, start­ed the pur­suit of an MPA, found a new tim­bre to my own par­tic­u­lar voice and phi­los­o­phy and just re­cent­ly de­cid­ed to get back in­to the swing of things around here. I broke out of my root ball and made my­self stretch in­to new soil. I’m even up on HTML5 and CSS3, though noth­ing vis­i­ble has come from that yet.

I still have a hard time ad­mit­ting that I’m wrong about things. Thankfully my re­la­tion­ship with Deborah has helped me be bet­ter at say­ing “I don’t know” in both my pri­vate and pro­fes­sion­al lives. I’ve got­ten bet­ter at sup­port­ing my own ar­gu­ments and po­si­tions, and hope­ful­ly more tact­ful as well. I’d like to think that the re­sult is a more re­fined and ma­ture ver­sion of my­self, but I’m still quite aware of just how far I have to go. Awareness of the ex­tent of my faults is an­oth­er bonus. The take­away from this is that I am a per­son who is go­ing to con­stant­ly be set­ting my­self tasks for learn­ing, teach­ing and grow­ing.

We even got the Christmas tree up.

Reassertion

Sunday, 29 November 2009

I’ve been ne­glect­ing this site for quite some time. There are a bunch of rea­sons for this, but none of them are good ex­cus­es. I’ve been a busy man, and re­al life has been keep­ing me bless­ed­ly busy with school, con­fer­ences, hol­i­day trav­el, hol­i­day shop­ping and col­lab­o­ra­tion with some lo­cal folks. When my life re­arranged it­self a few years ago, I de­cid­ed to on­ly write when there were im­por­tant things to say. When Bram showed up, I told my­self I wouldn’t let this place turn in­to every oth­er weblog of a new par­ent.

All of which is a be­tray­al of the main rea­son I start­ed this thing, way back in January of 2002. To write things down that I thought or thought were im­por­tant on a dai­ly ba­sis. As a way to find my voice. Time to get back on track. I’m go­ing to write at least a small post on a dai­ly ba­sis, just like back in the day.

From the Ashes

Tuesday, 13 May 2003

Here I am, back again and fancier than ever. I’ve fi­nal­ly inched to­ward a high­er ech­e­lon of blog­ging au­then­tic­i­ty by hop­ping on the MT band­wag­on. Now that I have re­designed and have nifty au­to-archiv­ing et al. there is re­al­ly on­ly one thing about this site that both­ers me. You might be able to help…

I can­not get my par­ent DIV ta­ble in which all else is nest­ed to au­to ex­pand when the nest­ed DIVs with­in it do so. My on­ly re­course was to make the par­ent DIV in­or­di­nate­ly long. If you have an idea for what I should do to make the par­ent grow in pro­por­tion to its chil­dren please, by all means, help this poor sod out.

All the links should work, but I still must put forth what lit­tle pow­ers of de­sign that are at my dis­pos­al in or­der to make those pages jive with the new ones. please bear with me, and if you see any­thing that needs fixed, holler.

Shrug

Tuesday, 15 April 2003

My life’s been gen­er­al­ly bor­ing re­cent­ly. More or less noth­ing note­wor­thy go­ing on worth men­tion­ing, but pfft. I don’t care. Whatever. I’ve ba­si­cal­ly been do­ing noth­ing worth men­tion­ing, but it’s not im­por­tant.

Current Mood: je­june

en­try gen­er­at­ed by the Apathetic Online Journal Entry Generator.

Metablogging?

Wednesday, 3 July 2002

bleah. i’m tired and my eyes are crusty/​crunchy since i chose sleep over show­er this morn­ing. but on to today’s rant and my first shot at metablog­ging.

what i get tired of see­ing as i search through the morass of the wide­world­ofwe­blog­ging are the sites in which the en­tries be­come noth­ing more than lin­guis­tic ac­ro­bat­ics. how cool can i make my mun­dane life and ideas sound? alas, i have been guilty of this my­self. my beef cen­ters on the fine dis­tinc­tion be­tween writ­ing to be ‘clev­er’ and writ­ing to be pre­cise. writ­ing to be ‘clev­er’ is easy. you just need a the­saurus and enough imag­i­na­tion to be­lieve the weath­er fore­cast. then, util­is­ing Roget’s tex­tu­al in­ter­face a per­son can sub­sti­tute words for words cre­at­ing a ren­dered uni­verse of kaliedo­scop­ic in­tran­sience whose pletho­ra of sub­lim­i­nal gad­getry hides the fact that there is no ac­tu­al con­tent to the damn thing. this ‘clev­er­ness’ is in fact noth­ing but in­ten­tion­al am­bi­gu­i­ty. writ­ing to be pre­cise, on the oth­er hand, does not let the read­ing in­fer any­thing from the post. they are told what the point of the ar­ti­cle is and it is ex­plained suf­fi­cient­ly.

now some might say that i am dis­tin­guish­ing be­tween two dif­fer­ent schools or writ­ing which could be rep­re­sent­ed but not nec­es­sar­i­ly de­fined by artis­tic writ­ing and aca­d­e­mic writ­ing. how­ev­er, what some might mis­take as my rant again­st the artis­tic is by no means my in­ten­tion. what i am rail­ing again­st is writ­ing that has form but no con­tent. neo-Dada writ­ing if you will. the point is that it has no point. fuck that. i be­lieve that those who think they are be­ing clev­er are ac­tu­al­ly con­vinced that their cre­ations have con­tent and mean­ing.

what is nice to run across are the in­stances of pre­ci­sion that pierce to the cen­ter of the author’s in­tent and en­light­en in­stead of mud­dle. when words are cho­sen not for their clev­er­ness but for their apt­ness. where ad­jec­tives are used with the dis­cern­ing taste of a con­nosieur to em­pha­size, in­stead of the hap­haz­ard ar­se­nal em­ployed by so many that mere­ly over­loads. good po­et­ry is pre­ci­sion writ­ing at its best, and it is artis­tic.

i’d like to ac­knowl­edge that the op­po­site is true, writ­ing can be ex­ces­sive­ly ba­nal to the point of mild in­san­i­ty but i’ll talk about that some oth­er time.

Nota Bene: this en­try is al­so an at­tempt at re­flex­iv­i­ty de­spite the fact that i dis­like the post­mod­ern, i am still a child of it. that is prob­a­bly ap­pro­pri­ate for the post­mod­ern it­self. coils with­in coils.